Be Strong
by weda
Summary: A short story about two boys in a less than perfect home.


**_A short story about two boys and an unhappy home. If you're sensitive to bad home life, don't read this... _**

**_***No infringements intended in any way, shape, or form. So if you decide to sue, be warned, you won't get much!***_**

_**~~~~Thanks for the encouragement Flutiegal!!~~~~  
**_

My home is run by rules. Rules are good for you, rules keep you happy, and rules keep you safe. Without rules, we are nothing. These are the things I hear the man tell my boys.

My boys are sweet. They love me unconditionally, as I love them the same. I wish I could help them, protect them. But I am forced to stay here in the dark, hidden. But when they need me, I am always here for them. Too bad it's near every night that I am needed. Tonight, I know my elder boy, "Little Man", will seek me out. I can hear the man and woman arguing in the next room. They always argue before they hurt my two boys. Little Man knows this too; he's very smart for his age. Though he may be only nine years old, he knows what will happen next.

Fearing for his younger brother, he helps him hide under the bed, behind a blanket so they won't see him. If they don't see him, they won't hurt him. Out of sight, out of mind. Too bad my boy will have to hurt for them both.

It's almost time. I hear the man coming down the hall. My boy whispers to his brother, "remember to be quiet no matter what you hear and don't come out until I come get you. Promise?" I hear his muffled answer, a small, scared whisper, "I promise".

It's time. The door slams open and the man grabs my boy's arm. Little Man is brave though; he tries his best to not make a sound. Crying only makes things worse. The man drags my boy out of the room. I can still hear them though, so I can imagine what the man is doing. A slap here, a hit there, a rough grab of the arm. Perhaps my boy gets shoved, whatever they do, they'll hurt him before they are through. And yelling, there is always yelling. They tell my boy lies. Lies to break him, to make him cry. But if he cries, they will punish him more.

Punish, what a word. They say they punish him because he has done wrong. But I see no crime or wrong doings. My boy's only crime? Being born. Try as they might, they have yet to break either of my boys. What they don't know, is my boy has a secret weapon. He has me waiting here for him; he knows I'll help him when they are done, just like always.

Eventually, I hear the most wonderful sentence in the world. "Get the hell out of here". Now I must fix what they have tried to break. I steel myself for the sights I will see. I hear my younger boy under the bed; he's trying so hard to be quiet, softly crying out to me. Oh how I wish I could go to him, to help him. But right now, Little Man needs me more. So I tune him out to better prepare myself.

As I hear the floorboards creak in the hallway, I can already tell tonight was bad. My boy is walking slowly it seems. Entering the bedroom, he quietly closes the door, leaving the light off. He always does this, I think it's because he doesn't want to scare his baby brother. He whispers to him to stay under the bed. That he'll come to him soon.

He comes to me now. Reaching up to me, I hear him whimper so softly. The soft moonlight plays across his features. I see them now, the marks on his face, marks on his arm. They'll be bruises in the morning. But more importantly, I see his eyes. A boy of nine should not have eyes that look so haunted.

He's holding back the tears. Its okay now I convey, I'm here. You can cry now, its okay. Holding me tight, he slumps to the floor. Back up against the wall, knees drawn up, he tries to be a strong little man as he clutches to me. He's so quiet still, but I know its coming. He didn't make a sound, but I knew the instant it happened. I felt his tears hit the top of my head. He's holding me so tight, I feel like my seams might pull apart. But no, I have to be the strong one now, I have to help him, comfort him while his tears reveal his true age. Eventually, he calms down and loosens his grip on me. He calls out to my young boy. He rushes to us, eager to hide in the dark with his big brother.

Monsters don't lurk in this dark place. In this house, the monsters are out there in the open, and this closet is the only safe place left, guarded by a lone teddy bear.


End file.
